Mi tierra [English translation]

Of my beautiful homeland, of my saintly homeland,

I hear that cry of the drums and the timpani.

And this song that a brother sings,

Who lives far away from his homeland,

And the memory of it makes him mourn.

A song that lives in tune

Of his sorrow, of his own weeping,

and he listens to it and grieves.

The land that you ache for,

The land that he gives,

The land that makes you sigh

If you don’t see it often.

The land where he was born;

You can not forget,

Because he has your origins

And he leaves that behind.

They follow the songs, and the sadness

And each night with the moon

He follows the sound of a sad song.

And each keeps silent as he follows it to my town.

He groans and laments,

He is nostalgic.

And this song that he follows in tune,

Runs in the blood,

And brings more strength to the heart.